


Thanksgiving

by Sam_Eller



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x07, Brotherly feels, Brothers, Caring!Brothers, Gen, Nightmare, Thanksgiving, all that good stuff, s11, sam and dean - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Eller/pseuds/Sam_Eller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The brothers remember what they are thankful for and enjoy a holiday spent together. Set in s11. Caring!Brothers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanksgiving

Note: Set in s11, spoilers up until 11x07. Yes, I know it's a day late. I'm Canadian, I can hardly be expected to have the date of America's thanksgiving memorized.

* * *

Sam cried out, shooting up in bed and blinking his eyes in a rapid fire pace as he struggled to take in his surroundings.

Ever since he had been on the receiving end of visions from the cage, the contents of Sam's nightmares had been haunted by memories of the time he spent there.

"Well I clearly don't have to ask what that was about."

Sam startled at the gruff voice, glancing up to see the older hunter leaning casually against the door frame at the entrance to his room.

Sam was equal parts embarrassed and comforted at the sight of his brother. His body relaxed and his mind released the terrors it had been replaying, both things that only ever seemed to occur when Dean was nearby. Sam idly wondered if the older man truly understood how much comfort he brought by simply being there.

"What what was about?" Sam questioned, feigning ignorance.

"Your nightmare."

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's blank look.

"It certainly wasn't a dream. No singing this time. It was a nightmare. And one about the cage I'm guessing."

Sam squinted up at his brother. Sure, Dean could see plain as day that he had a nightmare, but there was no way the older man actually knew what it was about.

"The nightmares from hell are always different with you. You don't gasp awake, you shout."

Sam looked down, the word shout was certainly generous. Sam - more often than not - screamed or sobbed his way out of a nightmare when it had to do with cage.

"Besides, you're always panicked after nightmares of hell. You spring up in bed and search the room like you did just now. It takes you longer to come back from them."

Dean watched as his little brother looked up at him, slight surprise across his face. Dean simply shook his head, sometimes it even shocked Sam how much his big brother noticed. The fact was, Dean paid close attention to everything having to do with his brother.

What didn't he know about the kid?

Besides the fact that apparently he had been infected...he had missed that and he'd never forgive himself for it.

Dean scowled at the recollection, but couldn't stop the small smile that tugged his lips as he watched Sam rubbing at his eyes, with his hair all askew, looking about five years of age.

"You want to talk about it?" Dean questioned, his voice softer.

The older man didn't really enjoy discussing hell, especially Sam's, but he was more than willing if it would put an end to his brother's night-terrors.

Sam raised an eyebrow, his calculating gaze running over his brother, making Dean uncomfortable as he shifted in the doorway.

"Only if you talk about yours first."

Dean put in a conscious effort not to display his surprise at the accuracy of his brother's observation.

"It's four in the morning and you already have a drink in you hand." Sam continued, nodding to the glass held loosely in his fingers. "I know you were fast asleep by the time I got to bed and there's no way you naturally woke up this early. My nightmare may have been loud enough to bring you to my room, but I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't have stopped off to pour a glass of whiskey before making your way over here."

Turns out Dean wasn't the only one who knew his brother.

Sam sat waiting expectantly and rolled his eyes when he received the answer he had assumed he would, an answer very similar to the one he himself had given.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean stated dismissively.

Sam winced at the underlying pain he could hear in his brother's voice.

"Was it hell?" He questioned softly.

Dean snorted.

"No, Sam. We might share a lot of things, but we don't have the same nightmares." He scoffed.

Sam was undeterred by his brother's flippant behaviour, able to see past it the same way he always could, right into the distress hidden beneath.

Sam softened his expression and naturally adopted a more beseeching look, without any conscious thought to do so.

"What was it?"

Dean inwardly cursed the younger man's gentle pleading tone and puppy-dog eyes, he knew that he was no match for such tactics.

Sam could see the moment his brother's impassive mask dropped away, and he knew that what Dean said next would be the truth.

"I almost beheaded you awhile ago, Sam. What the fuck do you think my nightmare was about?" Dean snapped.

Sam was slightly taken aback by the anger exhibited by the older hunter, but he knew it was a simple disguise for much deeper emotions.

"But you didn't." Sam reminded his brother quietly.

"Yeah, and you're out of the cage; that doesn't stop it from replaying in your dreams though, does it?"

Dean regretted his harsh words the moment they left his tongue, and even more so when they caused Sam to flinch ever so slightly.

They both waited in the silence, Sam regretting pushing his brother for an answer, and Dean regretting his biting reply.

Dean brought his eyes up from where they were focused on the floor, and returned them to his brother. Sam's hair curtained his face as he picked aimlessly at his blanket, Dean nearly smiled at the sight and wondered at what point in life would his little brother would stop reminding him of the young child he had once been.

"Hey, uh, you want to help me with dinner?"

It was the best peace offering Dean could think to offer.

Sam's looked up at him, confusion cluttering his face.

"Dinner? Dude, it's not even breakfast yet."

Dean shrugged at the comment.

"Well, it's a big deal. The bird is going to take at least three hours, I figure we can work on the rest of it while we wait."

"Bird? What bird?" Sam queried, seriously starting to think that his brother had lost it.

"The bluejay I found outside. What bird do you think, you moron?" Dean replied sarcastically.

Sam cocked his head to the side, still entirely lost.

Dean huffed, sauntering further into the room and setting his half filled glass on top of Sam's desk, before dropping down to straddle the chair and stare intently at the young man tracking his movements from his spot on the bed.

"What day is it today, Sam?" Dean asked, equal parts patient and amused.

Sam was content with his brother's newfound ease and his apparent enjoyment, but still couldn't understand what he was going on about.

"Umm Tuesday?" He guessed.

Dean chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"Actually, it's Thursday, but that's not really the point I'm trying to make here."

Sam's eyebrows scrunched together as he proceeded to ponder.

Dean gave him a few more moments, before smirking at the realization that his brilliant little brother was genuinely clueless.

"It's Thanksgiving, college-boy."

The older hunter watched as understanding dawned on his brother's face for a brief moment before his expression scrunched back up.

"We're celebrating it?" He questioned.

Dean nodded.

"Yeah, I bought all the makings of a Thanksgiving feast yesterday when I went out to stalk up and you elected to hide out in the library."

"I wasn't hiding out..I was researching - that's not the point-"

"No, it's not the point. The point is, are you going to help me with dinner or not?" Dean repeated, climbing to his feet and looking down expectantly at his brother.

Sam's face lit up, again reminding Dean of the child he had raised, the little kid who would jump ar every and any opportunity to spend time with his big brother.

"Sure!" He smiled, climbing from the bed.

"Good. I'll meet you in the kitchen. Be sure to put on a sweater, it's chilly." Dean advised over his shoulder as he made his way of the room.

Sam rolled his eyes at the instruction. It wasn't like he wasn't old enough to pick out his own clothes, but he slid a sweater on over his shirt anyways, because - as per usual - the jerk was right, it was cool in the bunker in the mornings.

Sam rushed to the kitchen, part of him nervous that if he didn't show up fast enough, Dean would somehow change his mind and extract the invitation. The younger man never really thought much about thanksgiving, especially not in the past several years, but all of the sudden the prospect of celebrating it had him nearly ecstatic.

He almost ran into Dean upon his entrance into the room.

"Whoah there, steady kiddo. Don't go getting yourself hurt, I need your two overly-large hands to help with dinner prep." Dean declared, steadying his younger brother before nudging him towards the counter.

"So...what do we do?" Sam asked, scanning the various ingredients littering the surface in front of him.

"Well, it'll be about another hour before the bird has defrosted, then we can stuff it and shove it in the oven."

"Why can't we put it in now?"

"Because it's frozen." Dean explained, stating something he assumed to be obvious.

"Well can't we just stick it in the microwave or something?"

The older man's eyebrows rose at the question, as he realized his brother was being serious.

"It's not a TV dinner, Sam. It's a turkey."

At his brother's blank look, Dean proceeded. "Dude, have you ever even _seen_ a turkey before?"

"Of course I have." Sam declared, sounding slightly offended. "I mean, it's been awhile, but I've still seen one."

Dean squinted at his brother, the corners of his mouth inching up as he nodded toward the sink.

"Go take a look."

Sam frowned, unsure if he was being played or the victim of some strange elaborate prank. But, as usual, his curiosity won out and with one last curious glance at his big brother, he wandered over to the sink.

"Holy shit! It's huge!" Sam gasped.

Dean snickered at the response.

"You still think microwaving is an option?" He asked, watching Sam's hair swoosh from one side to the other as he shook his head.

"So, how about we just let that defrost before we start shoving stuffing up its ass."

Sam turned around, tossing his brother a disgusted look.

"Oh you think it's gross now? Just wait until you have to put your hand-"

"I am _not_ putting my hand in the turkey." Sam announced, his face pinched and grossed out the way it used to get when he was a kid and Dean would talk about girls.

The older man barked out a laugh at the familiar expression and clapped his brother on the back.

"Fine than, you big baby. How about you just peel the potatoes?"

Sam nodded in agreement with the new task and grabbed the peeler Dean handed him and pulled a potato out of the bag in front of him.

They both worked in peaceful silence for awhile, Sam following Dean's instructions and internally revelling the sight of a relaxed brother who seemed to be at absolute ease performing such domestic tasks.

The younger man found himself nearly overwhelmed with contentment as he spent time in the kitchen with his big brother. He found it nearly easy to forget about all the worries of their hunting lives and just focus on being family as they prepared the meal. He loved seeing the softer, peaceful side to his brother that enjoyed the simple things in life, and could have spent all day just watching Dean contently putter around the kitchen.

"Sam, if you keep stalking me, you are going to be slicing your fingers instead of the vegetables." Dean stated, not even bothering to look up from his task of stuffing the turkey.

The taller of the two released a grin before returning his gaze to the food on the cutting-board.

Dean glanced up, unable to stop from smiling at the dimples that appeared on his brother's face.

He was amazed at how satisfying it was to just spend some time with his kid brother doing something as mundane as making dinner. Seeing Sam so happy at just being there and helping him out, sent a warmth through Dean that he didn't know he would ever feel again.

"So why-" Sam bit his tongue, not wanting to ruin the moment by questioning Dean's reasoning.

"Why what?" The older man asked as he sewed up the turkey.

Dean didn't fail to notice the man to his left chewing on his bottom lip, and knew that he was debating on whether to proceed with his inquiry.

"Why what, Sam?" He repeated, filling his tone with patience.

"Why celebrate Thanksgiving this year?" Sam questioned almost timidly, his gaze skittering to Dean and then down at the vegetables and back again.

Dean thought about the inquiry for a moment. He honestly wasn't sure about the answer. The truth was he had been at the grocery store yesterday to stalk up on food, and had spotted the turkeys, and simply felt the desire to enjoy a big holiday meal with his family.

"Well, the way I see it; Cas is getting better, I'm not longer under any biblical-ultra-evil influence, and you aren't infected with some psycho virus...And if that's not something to celebrate, than I don't know what the hell is." He summed up.

Dean smiled at the sound of Sam's chortle.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense, in a weird Winchester sort of way." Sam observed aloud.

Dean nodded at the truth of that fact.

It was a few moments later, when Sam was struggling to discover how one went about cooking a squash, when Dean spoke again.

"When you have nightmares about the cage, or those visions or whatever, I want you to remember something."

Sam was alarmed by the abrupt appearance of the topic, and frowned at his brother.

"I know you don't think they came from God, but-

"No, Sam, it's not about where or what they are coming from. I don't give a shit whether they are from God, bad pizza, or friggen Santa Clause."

Sam made to open his mouth, but Dean held his hand out, silently requesting the chance to finish, which was awarded to him.

"What I need you to remember is that not matter what they are or where they are coming from, you are _not_ going back to the cage. Not ever." The older man clarified, with every ounce of conviction he possessed.

"But what if it's the only way to stop the darkness, what if it's the only way to save the world?" Sam inquired, honestly wondering what they were to do if that was the case.

Dean shrugged it off.

"Well then the world can burn, for all I care." He announced.

Sam's eyes went wide.

"We can't let that happen." He argued in shock.

"Sam, you have sacrificed more than enough for this planet. You are not spending another second in the cage. Not for anyone or anything. I don't care what the consequences are, I'm not letting you go back. Not ever again. I won't do it, Sammy."

Dean's gruff voice leaked of emotion that spilt directly into Sam's soul.

He could hear the certainty and the promise in his older brother's tone, and it felt just like being wrapped in a blanket, he felt safe from everything.

But Sam had to be reasonable.

"We have to save people, Dean. That's our job. If it's the only way-

"Then we find another way, Sam. We of all people know that there is always another way. We will figure it out, like we always do."

Sam let the words sink in, hearing the sincerity and assurance, as well as the plea in his brother's voice. Sam wasn't sure what would happen next, or what the purpose of the visions were, but he had every desire to return Dean a fraction of the security that the older man always provided.

"Okay, Dean," He complied, a nod of his head as he swiped the away the moisture blurring his sight.

The hunter's expression lost the lines of concern as he nodded in confidence.

"Good." He said, that matter officially settled.

But Sam wasn't finished.

"And when you have nightmares about what happened with Death, I need you to remember something."

Dean released an exasperated sigh, wishing that Sam would at least wait an entire five minutes before using his own words against him.

"What?" He grumbled, knowing there was nothing Sam could tell him that would erase the guilt and terror he felt over nearly murdering his little brother.

"You didn't do it, Dean. You over-powered the mark and killed Death all to save me. That makes you the hero of the story, not the villain." Sam declared, with all the faith of a child.

Dean wondered what it would take for Sam to ever see him as anything other than a hero. He had nearly ended the man's life for godsake and the little brat still sung his praises.

But Dean knew from experience that pointing out the flaws in Sam's statement would do nothing but encourage his brother to go on some long rant about how good Dean is, and that wasn't happening, so Dean conceded.

"Fine, I'll remember that. But do me a favour, if we are ever placed in that sort of situation again, don't you dare just offer yourself up on a platter next time." He ordered, cringing at the mental flashback of Sammy kneeling before him prepared to die at his hands.

Sam surprised his brother's by releasing as quiet laugh.

"How about we just never end up in a situation like that again." He suggested.

"Deal." Dean agreed with a playful grin.

"So...what else are we making for dinner?" Sam queried, providing his brother the chick-flick-moment escape that he needed.

Dean gave Sam a grateful look as he answered, listing off the various dishes he had the ingredients for as well as the multiple types of pie he had purchased for dessert.

Sam smiled at the menu.

"You do know there are only three of us, right? And that is _if_ we can get Cas to turn off The Good Wife long enough to come eat with us."

"Dude, it's _Thanksgiving_ , the dinner is supposed to be way to big, and you are supposed to spend the next two months eating leftovers." Dean explained, as though it were the most apparent fact about the holiday.

Dean didn't care about the shit-storm headed there way, he didn't care about the darkness, at that very moment he didn't even care about Sam's visions or dreams or whatever.

He didn't care about Thanksgiving, or turkey, or - god help him- even pie.

He just cared about spending the day with his little brother.

About being sure Sam could spend at least one day just being happy.

And maybe about them feeling a little bit like a normal family as well.

And Dean had meant what he said about the cage, Sam wasn't going back.

Dean wouldn't spend another holiday without his little brother.

He wouldn't spend one day on Earth with his kid.

It wasn't going to happen, not again.

Not ever.

Sam grinned and nodded, more than willing to spend the morning making the largest dinner of life, even if it meant they spent the next year eating leftovers. Because even though the darkness was still a huge threat, and even though Sam knew there was something about it that Dean wasn't telling him; right then, in that moment, everything was okay.

Dean was content, and that was more than good enough.

In the future he would continue to be honest with is brother, about his visions and anything else that appeared, and hopefully his openness would encourage his brother to be honest in return.

In the future they would figure out what to do about the darkness and how to defeat it.

But for right now, Sam would spend the day hanging out with his big brother, spending time with his family.

And that was all he wanted for Thanksgiving.

Actually, that was all he had ever wanted.

They were a family and they had each other; darkness or not, Thanksgiving or not, honesty or not, being together was all that ever mattered to either of them.

Simply having one another around was everything.

It was what they fought for.

It was what they needed.

And it was what they were most thankful for.

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! - Sam


End file.
